


Catch a Falling Star

by barbitone



Series: Captive Prince Fanfiction [12]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Implied offscreen dubcon, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, POV Berenger (Captive Prince)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 07:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21424576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbitone/pseuds/barbitone
Summary: On the way to a trade negotiation, Lord Berenger finds a destroyed Veretian ship with one survivor- a pet named Ancel.Ancel is sweet and innocent, but soon enough Berenger finds that there's more to him than there first appeared.
Relationships: Ancel/Berenger (Captive Prince)
Series: Captive Prince Fanfiction [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1455904
Comments: 40
Kudos: 190





	Catch a Falling Star

**Author's Note:**

> I started thinking about what Ancel is like from Berenger's POV, and here we are :)
> 
> Big thank you to [sinnysin-sin](https://sinnysin-sin.tumblr.com/) for betaing!!!

* * *

Berenger woke to the insistent beeping of the comms and sighed heavily before he answered the call.

“What is it?” he asked.

_“Lord Berenger,”_ Parsins’ pinched voice rang out. _“We’ve received a distress call. You’d really better see this.”_

“On my way,” Berenger said and shut down the transmission.

The ambient lights in the room were dark purple, signaling the late hour. Still, he forced himself to climb out of his warm welcoming bed and put on his space suit before going up to the bridge.

“What is it?” he asked, but he could already see the issue spread out before him on the main viewscreen.

It was the wreckage of an undoubtedly Veretian ship, debris floating through space catching the light of a faraway star. Whoever had sent the distress signal was long dead.

It was to be expected, this close to the border of Vaskian space. Raids happened all the time. There was nothing they could do about it now.

“Log the attack and move on,” Berenger said.

“My Lord,” Parsins said. “The distress signal is live. And we’re reading a life signature among the wreckage.”

Berenger sat in the captain’s seat, rubbing his temples. “Find it,” he ordered. “If anyone’s left alive out there- bring them on board.”

It took another hour of scans before they found the lone escape pod in the mess of rubble and managed to tractor it into the hold.

Berenger went down to see it opened, his breath catching as he saw the young man suspended in cryosleep inside.

He was beautiful- his hair as red as flame. He was dressed in loose diaphanous silks, so sheer that Berenger could almost make out the lean lines of his body beneath. He was draped with jewelry, cheap but still beautiful against his creamy skin. He was clearly a pet, ejected to safety by a doting master. The only survivor of the Vaskian raid.

Berenger stayed while his Sentry robots unlocked the pod. Once the canopy swung open the young man inside sagged with a small sigh and Berenger stepped forward to catch him, drawing him out carefully.

He ended up on his knees, cradling the pet in his lap. The pet was the loveliest of his kind he’d ever seen- easily the loveliest young man Berenger had seen in his entire life.

He smoothed the pet’s red hair back from his forehead, waiting with bated breath as the pet’s dark eyelashes fluttered. When the young man finally opened his eyes he seemed dizzy, lost. He took a sharp breath as he finally focused on Berenger above him and his pupils dilated in fear, his body stiffening.

“It's alright,” Berenger said. “You're safe now.”

The pet took a slow breath, then another. He relaxed while staring into Berenger’s eyes, reaching up to stroke Berenger’s face. He smiled, weary but grateful.

“You saved me,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

His eyes fluttered shut and his body went slack. Berenger held him closer.

“Get him to the infirmary,” he ordered the Sentries. As the robots walked closer Berenger thought better of it. The thought of their cold mechanical hands on the pet made him slightly ill. He shook his head to order them back and picked up the young man himself, holding him close to his chest and walking softly in an effort not to jostle him.

* * *

Two cycles passed before Berenger received a summons.

The pet was awake.

Berenger went down to the infirmary and tried to keep his heart from fluttering at the sight of the beautiful young man before him- his firey hair loose down to his shoulders, his cheeks faintly pink. His emerald eyes were darting around the room as though he was nervous, so Berenger sat in the chair at his bedside and reached out to set his hand over the pet’s.

“You’re safe here,” he assured him.

The pet seemed to relax, gazing down at their clasped hands.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“What is your name?”

“Ancel.”

“I am Lord Berenger.”

“It is my honor-” the pet breathed out.

“There’s no need for that,” Berenger was quick to interject. “Can you tell me what happened?”

The pet, _ Ancel, _winced and Berenger felt sick at his own awkwardness.

“I’m sorry,” Berenger said quickly. “I’m sure it was… traumatic for you.”

Ancel tightened his lips and looked away, but did not pull out of Berenger’s hold.

“You don’t have to say, if it’s… if it’s too difficult,” Berenger said awkwardly. “But if there’s anything you can remember-”

“It was the middle of the sleep cycle,” Ancel said, still not looking at him. “They hailed us- I don’t know what they demanded. But then they were boarding, and there was fire-”

He shivered, falling silent.

“Do you know… who it was?”

“Vaskians,” Ancel said firmly. “Men. They were… they were very large. They boarded the ship.”

“Thank you,” Berenger said, squeezing Ancel’s hand in an attempt to comfort him. “I’ll do my best to do right by you. Maybe I can get you home to your master…?”

Ancel pulled out of his hold, moving to lie on his side looking away from him.

“Ancel?” Berenger asked.

It made his heart ache to see this beautiful youth so distraught.

“Louans,” Ancel whispered.

Berenger froze. They’d recovered the black box from the destroyed ship. It had been registered to a merchant named Louans.

“Oh Louans,” Ancel said, his voice trembling. “He cared so much for me… he sent me off into the escape pod. He didn’t want me falling into their hands. He didn’t want them to-”

He broke off with a sob. Berenger set a hand on his shoulder uncertainly. Ancel’s beloved master Louans was surely dead. Would it be more cruel to admit it, or to give him hope?

“You’re safe now,” he said awkwardly. 

“I’ll never see him again, will I?” Ancel wailed.

Berenger winced. He didn’t know what to do in these sorts of situations. He rubbed Ancel’s back and that seemed to help, somewhat.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’m alone!” Ancel cried out through his sobbing.

“No,” Berenger said. “No, of course not. No- you’re not alone. I’ll take care of you. You’ll be safe here.”

He waited until Ancel cried himself to sleep before rising.

He’d never taken a pet- never trusted one, never wanted to feel like he was purchasing affection. But Ancel seemed so devoted to his lost master that it shook Berenger down to his very core.

“I don’t trust him,” Parsins said, waiting for him out in the hall.

“He’s just a pet,” Berenger said with an exhausted sigh.

Parsins snorted. “None of them are _ just _pets. Be careful, my Lord.”

“I am,” Berenger said. But there was a nagging voice at the back of his mind, that said maybe he wasn’t.

* * *

When Ancel grew well enough to walk there seemed to be no reason to restrict him to the infirmary. Berenger grew to appreciate the times they ran in to each other. Ancel seemed to be curious about everything- the workings of the ship, the engines, the control room.

He seemed oddly distant, too. Though maybe that was to be expected.

He wandered around in a sort of daze most of the time, dressed in the simple but well-made clothes Berenger had provided for him. He seemed grateful not to be forced to wear impractical silks and jewelry. He kept his hair back with a simple tie, no doubt relieved to be liberated from the expectations of pet attire.

How strenuous must it have been for Ancel, to have to keep to his master’s desires about how he should dress and act? How uncomfortable and cold must he have been in his silks and jewels? In his natural state, he seemed free.

Berenger entered his rooms one evening to find Ancel sitting on the floor before his bookshelf with a guilty expression.

“My Lord,” he said before biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to intrude. But I…”

“I imagine you’re quite bored,” Berenger said with a small smile.

“... a bit,” Ancel said bashfully in return.

“You may come here whenever you like,” Berenger assured him, watching the way Ancel’s smile widened. “You may tell me, if there’s anything you need or want. I only wish the best for you.”

“Thank you,” Ancel whispered, looking down at the ground with a smile.

Berenger left to give him his privacy, never once wondering about any suspicious alternatives. He did wonder, vaguely, about how Ancel might have found his way into the locked room. But Ancel was just a pet. Surely it wasn’t impossible that Berenger might have left his bedroom door unlocked.

* * *

Berenger was nearly asleep when he heard the quiet knock.

“Enter,” he called out, sitting up and turning on the lamp by his bedside.

The door beeped and opened to reveal Ancel- wearing only a plain white sleep shirt that reached to mid thigh. The fabric was so fine and thin that standing as he was- backlit by the brighter light out in the corridor, Berenger could easily make out the elegant lines of his body beneath.

“May I come in?” Ancel asked shyly.

“Of course,” Berenger said even as he felt his cheeks heating up with a blush.

Ancel looked so beautiful as he came closer, his hair falling in loose waves down to his shoulders and shining like polished copper. All Berenger could look at was his bare legs- coltish and milky white, perfect.

“I had a bad dream,” Ancel said with a small frown as he climbed into bed.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Berenger asked. It was so hard to think straight with Ancel laid out beside him.

“Hold me,” Ancel said plaintively. “Please.”

It was so easy to give in. Berenger barely gave it a second thought as he wrapped his arm around Ancel’s waist and pulled him closer.

“You’re safe here,” he murmured.

Ancel’s skin felt so fine against his, so smooth and warm.

“I know, my Lord,” Ancel breathed out.

He shifted so they were lying chest to chest, nose to nose.

“Please,” Ancel whispered, leaning closer and tilting his head just so, moving in for a kiss. “Please, I need you-”

It was something straight out of a fantasy Berenger had had so many times- a rescue, a beautiful young man, grateful and aching for affection. A nightmare, an excuse for pure animal comfort to turn to something more. Skin against skin- shared warmth. A moment in the dark.

Hell, half of Berenger’s favorite romance novels featured some similar scene. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of- perfect.

He thought of Ancel, looking up at him in that first moment and smiling. He thought of Ancel, nervous in the infirmary. He thought of Ancel- sitting in his room even though Berenger was sure now that he’d locked it, looking through his books, smiling up at him with guilt in his eyes.

Berenger felt like he’d been sitting in a warm bath only to be engulfed in ice.

_ “No,” _he said firmly, turning away from Ancel’s kiss.

“What’s wrong, my lord?” Ancel simpered.

Berenger shoved himself back, rising from the bed as he finally saw the true face of the man before him.

“What are you doing?” Berenger demanded.

Ancel looked up at him, innocent and sweet, batting his eyelashes. But his gaze was sharp, calculating. His body was coiled strength and held-back tension, his limbs perfectly arranged in a way that seemed profoundly performative. He sat up a little, the simple night shirt slipping down his shoulder as if by accident. But Berenger had noticed the slight shift of his hand, pinching and pulling the fabric. The subtle shimmy of his shoulder, making sure the shirt wouldn’t catch as it slid down to reveal smooth inviting skin.

It was expertly done- a magic trick meant to entice. Berenger wouldn’t have realized even a moment ago. He saw the rest of it now too- the artfully mussed hair, the painted lashes to make them seem longer and more lush. He wondered if the dark circles of exhaustion under Ancel’s eyes were real or if they were paint too. Everything about him was a carefully constructed fabrication.

It was so obvious now. Berenger felt sick.

“Stop it,” he hissed.

“Stop what?” Ancel asked, putting on a show of being confused.

“Lying,” Berenger said. “Be who you are. What do you want?”

Ancel’s expression crumbled into something closer to cruelty and Berenger felt sick.

“I want you to buy me,” Ancel said. _ Snarled. _“What about that is so hard to understand?”

Berenger bit his lip so he wouldn’t laugh. Parsins had been right. He’d been right about all of it.

“What did you do to Louans.”

“So that’s it,” Ancel said sharply, his body language shifting from prey to predator in an instant. “You’re worried about _ Louans? _That bastard wanted to leave me to be raped by Vaskian bandits.”

Berenger took another step backward from the viper in his bed. The _ pet. _

“Should I have let him?” Ancel asked, his expression twisting into something ugly. “Should I have let him throw me away after- after _ everything?” _

Berenger stared, frozen in horror as the sweet youth turned into a vicious snake.

“He was horrid,” Ancel spit out. “He was- but you don’t care. Do you? _ My Lord?” _

“Ancel,” Berenger started, and didn’t know how to go on.

Ancel laughed, sharp and vicious. “I slit his throat,” he said. “Because he wanted to take the only escape pod and leave me behind. Leave me for _ them.” _

Berenger stayed silent as Ancel finally rose from the bed to stand, his fists shaking at his sides.

“Fuck you,” Ancel spit out. “Fuck all of you- fuck all of _ them. _ I might be a whore but I’m not less-than just because you have money and- and- _ titles.” _

He stormed out and Berenger watched him go, lost and confused. 

Somehow, despite everything, he found this version of Ancel so much more appealing.

The lost victim had been enticing, worthy of pity. The truth- the cold selfish viper- was _ real. _

* * *

In the morning Ancel came down to breakfast in his own clothes- swathed in shimmering silks and dripping with jewels. There was a haughty expression on his face, paint on his lips and lashes. The dark circles under his eyes were gone but Berenger could just barely make out the faint shimmer of paint. Reality had been covered artfully by a master illusionist.

“If you’re not going to buy me, take me to Arles where someone else will,” Ancel demanded without greeting.

“Fine,” Berenger said. “But I can’t alter course. I’m on my way to Ver-Kindt.”

“Skarva?” Ancel asked, his eyes lighting up with uncomplicated delight. It transformed him in an instant- cold viper turned radiant youth.

“Yes,” Berenger said.

“The finest copper comes from Skarva. And furs- and opals!”

Berenger couldn’t help a wry smile at Ancel’s excitement. “I imagine so. I’m going there to renegotiate trade on plasma fuel, and purchase a fleet of fighter ships.”

“I want to go with you,” Ancel said.

“Is that so,” Berenger said flatly. “I would have imagined you might be wary of Vaskians after your… ordeal.”

“Those were men,” Ancel scoffed like being the lone survivor of a raid was nothing. “I imagine you’ll be dealing with women. The Empress- I’ve heard she’s as large as an ox.”

“She’s larger than most. Not quite as large as an ox.”

“You’ve _ met _ her?” Ancel breathed out, his eyes glittering. “An _ Empress?” _

“I take this trip every year,” Berenger said mildly.

“And what price have you managed to negotiate?” Ancel asked with a smirk. “For your plasma fuel?”

“Fifteen hundred Sol per gram.”

Ancel laughed, sharp but somehow uncomplicated. The jewels he was wearing glittered in the light as he threw his head back, his shoulders shaking. “Pathetic,” he said once he’d calmed. “Take me with you. I’ll help you cut that price in half.”

“I’ve done this five years now,” Berenger said, only a little offended.

“Badly,” Ancel retorted.

“You really think you can do better?” Berenger asked, amused despite himself.

“Try me,” Ancel said with a smirk.

Parsins, who’d been watching the exchange with obvious disapproval, sniffed with distaste.

Berenger looked at the sweet-faced youth before him, vigorous and alive now in a way he hadn’t been when he’d been pretending to be an innocent victim. Berenger felt even more drawn to him than before- his eyes sparkling with mischief, his sweet lips wrapped incongruously around an insult, his long elegant fingers so encrusted with jewels it bordered on gaudy.

Berenger had a visceral fantasy of pulling the rings off one by one until Ancel’s hands were bare. He imagined wrapping his lips around Ancel’s fingers, his hand around Ancel’s wrist, lavishing attention on the hands of a killer while Ancel looked down at him with a vicious little smirk and laughter in his eyes-

Berenger cleared his throat, turning back to the breakfast he’d all but forgotten.

“And what will you demand in return?” he asked.

“My Lord,” Parsins said.

“Gifts, obviously,” Ancel said. “We should stop in Ver-Vassal. I need new clothes, and jewelry.”

_ “My Lord,” _ Parsins hissed pointedly.

“He can afford it,” Ancel said with a glare.

“Are you so sure?” Berenger asked.

“I’ve seen your ship,” Ancel said, as though it were obvious.

“Fine,” Berenger said.

“My Lord!” Parsins said, his voice dripping with indignation.

“The money I’ll save you will be well worth it,” Ancel said. “And I want one more thing.”

“Which is…?” Berenger asked.

“Cake for breakfast,” Ancel said, glaring down at his plate of replicated nutritional paste with disgust.

“I see,” Berenger said, biting back a laugh. He was definitely going to get a talking-to from Parsins but he didn’t care. “Very well.”

Ancel beamed at him in response, happy and carefree. Suddenly all of it seemed worth it.

* * *

Even the best port in Ver-Vassal was rather rough. Berenger felt a shiver of unease run down his spine as Ancel joined him in the hangar decked out in his usual finery. The only concession he’d made for their outing was putting on the simple but finely made calf-skin boots Berenger had issued him when he’d first arrived.

“Are you sure that’s… wise?” Berenger asked carefully.

“What do you mean?” Ancel asked, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Are you sure you should be wearing... that?”

“What else would I wear?” Ancel asked, looking at him like he was an idiot. “Now, come on!”

He took Berenger’s hand and dragged him down the ramp, navigating the port like he knew the place. Maybe he did. Berenger was finished making assumptions where Ancel was concerned.

The rough-looking men lurking in the alleys and drinking ale on the stairs of the buildings lining the streets whistled and made crude comments as Ancel walked past. He seemed to revel in the attention, his smirk only growing wider as time went on.

It just made Berenger uneasy. When a bearded drunk staggered towards them Berenger took Ancel firmly by the waist, steering him away.

Ancel shot him a surprised look, oddly open and happy. Berenger thought it seemed real, but he couldn’t be sure.

Their first stop was a clothing store, where Ancel happily spent Berenger’s money without a care in the world. There was a shoe store after, and then Ancel bought a wide-brimmed hat embellished with feathers and a pair of pink sunglasses. Berenger let himself get swept away by Ancel’s shopping rampage until his mind was glazed over with thoughts of flashy fabrics and expensive accessories, and that was why he wasn’t paying attention when a grinning thug stepped forward out of a dark alley and reached out for Ancel’s hair.

“Hello pretty,” the thug crooned.

Before Berenger could react Ancel was moving, twisting elegantly so the thug’s grasping fingers missed him by half a mile. Ancel slammed the heel of his boot into the drunk’s foot with a sickening crack and elbowed him in the nose, sending him stumbling backwards.

“Don’t touch what you can’t afford,” he said with a dismissive sniff as the drunk groaned and brought his hands up to his now-bleeding nose.

Ancel didn’t have a single hair out of place as he grinned and took Berenger’s arm, leading him off towards a jewelry store.

Some tension in Berenger eased and it was all he could do to suppress a laugh. He shouldn’t find Ancel’s antics charming. He really shouldn’t. He was helpless to stop himself.

“Show him the most expensive thing you have,” Berenger said to the shop keep. Ancel’s smile only widened.

They spent the better part of an hour in there while Ancel swooned over the jewelry and demanded to try things on, but finally they were back on the street and making their way back to the ship.

A swarm of children ran past, bumping into them, and Ancel reached out and snatched one of the boys by the wrist, dragging him backwards.

“Oi, bao-bao!” Ancel said harshly, using the Common dialect. _ Hey, kid- _but ruder.

The child scowled, trying uselessly to pull out of Ancel’s grasp while Ancel knelt before him so they were eye-to-eye.

“Lemme _ go, _ hessa!” the boy hissed. _ Let go, rich man. _

“I ain’t no hessa, bao-bao,” Ancel said with a laugh while Berenger could only look on with confusion.

“Your first mistake was stealing from my master,” Ancel said, shifting to a more highborn dialect. It was only now that Berenger noticed the off-notes, the faint accent of the streets in Ancel’s speech. 

Ancel held out his free hand expectantly and the boy pouted before slowly reaching into his shirt and pulling out a few Sol.

Ancel handed them back to Berenger without even looking.

“Your second mistake was to go for his pants, when he keeps most of his money in his jacket.”

“What do _ you _ know,” the boy hissed.

“More than you, shei-ha.” _ Shit head. _

“Ancel,” Berenger said, trying to push back his amusement.

The boy spit on the ground. Ancel didn’t seem offended. If anything, he seemed proud. “Here, bao-bao, don’t take less than three thousand Sol for it.” He reached up and took one of his emerald earrings from his ear and slid it into the boy’s pocket. “Try that hessa next-” he pointed at an elderly merchant arguing with a shop keep down the street. “He ain’t paying attention.”

The boy grinned. “Thanks, ge-ge.” _ Brother. _

“Sleep safe tonight,” Ancel said, letting go of the boy at last, standing when he ran off.

“That was… kind of you,” Berenger said in surprise.

“Where do you think I came from?” Ancel asked flippantly. “Sanpelier or Ver-Kindt, a slum is a slum. If it’ll keep him and his friends out of a brothel for even one more day, it’s worth it.”

“Is that what happened to you?” Berener asked, falling into step beside Ancel as they returned to the ship yard. He couldn’t help imagining Ancel as a young boy, fending for himself on the streets. Was he an orphan? Did he run away from cruel parents? Berenger realized that he knew intimately Ancel’s tastes in shoes and jewelry, and nothing about him of any substance.

Ancel stopped abruptly, raising his hand to cover his mouth. His shoulders were shaking. “Yes,” he whispered, devastated. “Yes- I was- a poor soul, lost in the shuffle of our terrible world. Fallen through the cracks- trapped with the dregs of society-”

“Ancel,” Berenger said with a put-upon sigh.

Ancel laughed, dropping the act in an instant. “It wasn’t so bad,” he said with a shrug. “It was a dry place to sleep.” He laughed again, sharp and delighted. “Mostly.”

“Ancel,” Berenger said.

“You know, because of the-”

“I get it,” Berenger said, setting his hand on Ancel’s lower back to urge him forward again.

“The cum,” Ancel managed through his giggles.

“Yes, thank you,” Berenger said, exasperated and amused in equal measure. “Am I your master, now?” he asked after a while, thinking of what Ancel had said to the boy.

“Not until you pay for me, hessa,” Ancel said with a wink. “Maybe I’ll pay for myself.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out Berenger’s wallet, waving it playfully in the air.

Berenger took it out of his hand and slipped it back into his own jacket.

“What did you ever do without me?” Ancel asked, running his finger down the side of Berenger’s face. Berenger had to contain a shiver.

“I lived a peaceful life,” he said dryly.

“Aren’t you glad I came along?” Ancel said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yes,” Berenger said and was gratified to hear the words come out dripping with sarcasm, even though he found himself meaning them.

* * *

Berenger didn’t know what to make of Ancel. He got into fights with Parsins and bossed around the Sentries, hacked into their flight plans and made adjustments without asking. Whenever Berenger confronted him, he answered flippantly-

“I heard there was trouble in sector AX-15,” or “we need to resupply anyway, and Aurelia station has the best Litha Crystals,” or, on simpler days, “we’re out of cake.”

Despite Ancel’s interference, or maybe because of it, they managed to arrive at Skarva without any further trouble.

Berenger viscerally remembered Ancel’s demand to join him in the negotiations and he waited in the hangar before disembarking, trying to surreptitiously wipe his sweating palms on his pants. He didn’t like walking into a situation without knowing how it would go, and Ancel’s presence made everything so painfully unpredictable.

To his surprise Ancel arrived right on time, wearing a practical pair of boots and trousers, a plain white shirt and a knee-length coat over it all. His hair was pulled back into a simple braid, the only sign of his pet status was a single emerald earring dangling from one ear and the gold paint he’d used to line his eyes.

“You look-” Berenger said, entranced despite himself.

Ancel smirked and stepped closer, pressing his front to Berenger’s and wrapping his arms around Berenger’s neck.

Berenger’s mouth went dry.

Ever since that moment in his bedroom, Ancel had stopped his all-out conquest to seduce him. But Berenger felt seduced nevertheless. Everything about Ancel was somehow enticing- everything from the soft fall of his hair to the vicious little curl of his lips when he made an off-color joke.

Even when he wasn’t trying, he was was sex personified, a razor-sharp wit wrapped up in long legs and milky skin, a coltish grace that left Berenger weak.

“I look like your wettest dream, hessa,” Ancel purred. “I know.”

“I imagined you’d be wearing jewels,” Berenger said, praying that his voice stayed steady.

“Seems counterproductive to flaunt your wealth while trying to negotiate a trade deal, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Berenger said hesitantly.

“Offer me your arm, _ master,” _Ancel said, moving to stand beside him. “I’m your pet tonight, even though you haven’t earned it.”

“I bought you jewels, didn’t I?” Berenger asked, offering his arm.

“Gifts aren’t a contract,” Ancel said with a disdainful sniff.

The door of the hangar slid open and they turned to walk down the extended ramp. Berenger smiled at the delegation of Vaskian women in furs waiting for them.

He recognized a few faces. It didn’t escape his notice that they seemed to greet him more warmly than before. He’d been alone, before. Vaskians favored virility, and showing up with a pretty young pet on his arm only raised his value in their eyes.

Ancel stayed by his side, silent and obedient during the negotiations. The sale of the fighter ships went quickly, the Vaskians didn’t haggle about such things. Within the hour Berenger had paid for the fleet and arranged for it to be delivered to the modest space port of Aquitart.

The question of fuel prices was more complicated. The evening concluded without resolution, as it usually did. Berenger was used to spending three days or more at these things.

There was a banquet, of course.

The Vaskians still followed the old ways- there was a bonfire and scantily clad women dancing around it. There was roasted meat served in rich sauces with heavy wine. And of course- hakesh.

Ancel flitted off somewhere to socialize and Berenger paid him no mind as he drank wine and talked to the Vaskian trade ambassador. He could tell she found him a bore but he had no idea how to turn the conversation to something more interesting. He had only the barest idea of what she might find interesting at all.

Out of nowhere, Ancel returned- bright eyed and pink cheeked, giggling. He settled in Berenger’s lap like he belonged there, wrapping his arms around Berenger’s neck.

The Vaskian trade ambassador stood and made herself scarce.

“Kiss me,” Ancel breathed out. For all the world, he seemed to be drunk and having fun. But Berenger knew him well enough by now to hear the steel in his voice.

“Did you drink the hakesh?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Ancel said. Berenger realized he wasn’t looking at him but rather past him, at the Vaskians. “Kiss me.”

“What are they saying?” Berenger asked mildly.

Ancel leaned closer and kissed his neck, making Berenger shiver. “They’re saying you seem particularly virile this year,” Ancel whispered into his ear, like he might whisper to a lover. “They’re saying they might invite you to the coupling fire.”

Berenger felt his limbs grow heavy and cold with dread. The coupling fire. There was no polite way to refuse the honor. Over the past few years he’d never been deemed worthy and had hoped the trend would continue.

It wasn’t that he found women particularly distasteful, but he preferred men. And certainly, he didn’t enjoy meaningless anonymous experiences, especially not ones that might result in a _ child- _

“Breathe,” Ancel whispered. “Kiss me.”

Berenger swallowed heavily.

“Don’t act like it’s such a hardship,” Ancel said with a frown. “Pretend for a moment you like me and just- do it.”

Berenger didn’t need to pretend to like him. All he needed to do was stop pretending that he didn’t.

He raised his hand to the side of Ancel’s face, rubbing his thumb over his cheek. His skin was so smooth. He was blushing prettily and Berenger wondered idly how he managed to fake something like that.

Ancel’s lips were plump and pink, parted invitingly. He knew he should refuse, but suddenly he was struck with the thought that this would likely be his only chance.

Berenger leaned forward and brushed their mouths together, his eyes falling closed as he felt Ancel against him. He was so warm. His lips were even softer than they looked.

It lasted a bare moment and left Berenger aching. Even that small touch felt stolen and he didn’t dare press for more. When Berenger pulled back it was to see that Ancel was scowling.

“That’s _ it?” _Ancel hissed. “The best you can do? Do you really find me so repulsive that-”

Berenger’s resolve shattered in an instant. He didn’t think Ancel was repulsive and he couldn’t bear Ancel believing such an awful thing.

He tightened his grip on the back of Ancel’s neck and pulled him back in. He put as much of himself as he could into that one kiss, parting Ancel’s lips with his tongue and plundering his mouth, wrapping his arm around Ancel’s waist to drag him closer.

Ancel made a small sound of surprise, a gasp and a moan rolled into one. He practically melted against Berenger, kissing back just as passionately. Berenger got lost in it, trying to catalogue every little detail- the heat of Ancel’s lips, the way his braid brushed the back of his hand like silk, the hitching little gasp he made when Berenger let his hand slide down to cup Ancel’s ass.

The way Ancel angled his face seemed calculated, the way his fingers tightened over the lapels of Berenger’s coat seemed real. He couldn’t tell if the sounds Ancel made were real or pretend, but they made him burn up with desire regardless.

It was everything he’d been dreaming of, so much better than he’d imagined. It suddenly felt so easy- to kiss, to touch, to urge Ancel closer until he was pushing his hard cock against Berenger’s hip.

Ancel pulled away and stood, grabbing Berenger’s hand. He was grinning widely as he pulled Berenger away through the fire-lit night- leading him to the diplomat’s tent that the Vaskians had set up for them.

Berenger followed, loose and pliant until they were in the privacy of the tent. Ancel pushed him down to the bed, kissing him fervently, his hands running wild over Berenger’s chest, lower.

But now that they were in private the excuse was gone and Berenger could justify the indulgence no longer. Ancel didn’t want him, not really. Ancel was used to selling his body, to molding himself to fit into the fantasies of other men. Men like Berenger. Letting this charade continue would be a violation.

“No,” Berenger said, grabbing Ancel’s wrists and gently pushing him away.

“No?” Ancel asked, confused and blushing. “But I-”

“No,” Berenger said firmly. “Not like this.”

Ancel scowled and shifted, pressing his thigh against Berenger’s erection. It was all he could do to stay strong and glare instead of folding like a house of cards and begging for more.

“I don’t-”

“You’re- _ hard,” _Ancel said.

“I know,” Berenger said with a wry smile.

“Just- _ let me-” _

“No,” Berenger insisted. “You don’t want to.”

“What the fuck do you know,” Ancel snarled, his face twisting into something ugly and real.

Berenger let go of him and rolled away, breathing slowly.

“You’re hard,” Ancel insisted once more.

“I’ll live somehow,” Berenger said, standing and walking over to a low table set up on the other side of the tent. He poured himself another glass of wine, hoping it would steady his nerves. He heard Ancel huffing out some curse in disapproval, heard the rustling of cloth. Berenger wasn’t brave enough to turn around until he heard the first sigh and a sound like flesh moving over flesh.

He felt uneasy as he turned and saw Ancel laid out on the bed- naked and hard, touching himself. He looked so beautiful in the dim lamp light in the tent, his hair shining like fire. His face was turned away, his cheek pressed to the sheets. He was frowning faintly, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. He stroked himself steadily with one hand and clutched at the sheets with the other.

Berenger knew he should look away and couldn’t. His hands were shaking and he set the wineglass down lest he spill it on the ground.

There was a bead of precum glistening at the tip of Ancel’s pretty cock, flushed pink with arousal.

“Are you just going to watch or are you going to do something useful?” Ancel demanded.

Berenger’s eyes snapped to Ancel’s, watching him shrewdly. Berenger wasn’t sure he could speak even if he wanted to.

“Fine,” Ancel said with a huff, throwing his head back and stroking himself faster, practically fucking into his own fist. He was flushed and panting, he looked just on the edge. He hovered there for a long time, worrying at his lip with mounting frustration.

Berenger realized that for some reason- he couldn’t. He couldn’t on his own.

Maybe Berenger had mistaken actual desire for goading. Maybe Ancel didn’t know how to ask for something he wanted for himself, not without wrapping it in layers of lies.

Before he quite knew what he was doing Berenger walked over to the bed, sitting carefully beside him.

“I’m not paying you for this,” Berenger said.

Ancel’s eyes snapped open to glare at him. He looked furious as much as aroused.

“I mean- I’m not- I don’t own you,” Berenger said, trying explain what he meant. “You can say no to me. If that’s what you want to say. I won’t be angry with you.”

“If you’re trying to make me lose my hard-on,” Ancel said, his voice coming out breathy and low, “it’s working.”

“Shame,” Berenger said, reaching out to smooth his palm down Ancel’s side. Ancel’s hand faltered over his cock so Berenger pushed it away. “What do you like?” he asked. It was heady just to touch him, to stroke his quivering thighs and revel in how soft his skin was.

“What you like,” Ancel said.

“Really,” Berenger said. He wanted to ask what was holding Ancel back before, and had no idea how to phrase it so it wouldn’t come out ridiculous.

“I like you wanting me,” Ancel said, not looking at him. “I couldn’t with you- across the room and- watching like you didn’t care at all-”

“I care,” Berenger said. “I care quite a lot. I want to see you come.”

“Then make me come,” Ancel said, a familiar smirk playing over his lips.

Berenger drank in the sight of him, the feeling of him under his hands, his body taut and his skin covered in a faint sheen of sweat. His cock was standing hard against his toned stomach and Berenger leaned down to drag his tongue up the underside.

Ancel gasped, loud and uncertain. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

Berenger smiled and did it again, shifting to take Ancel by the hips and press him down against the bed. He was trembling all over, and when Berenger took the head of his cock into his mouth he made the prettiest sound- a hitching gasp, almost like a sob.

Berenger closed his eyes as he slowly slid down Ancel’s length, taking him in as deep as he could before pulling back, pressing his tongue to the sensitive underside of his cockhead. Idly he wondered if anyone had done this for Ancel before. Maybe not. He was a pet, after all. Berenger supposed most masters preferred it the other way around.

If this was Ancel’s first, Berenger wanted to make it good.

He drank in every detail of Ancel below him, the way he clutched at the sheets, the way his thighs fell open invitingly as Berenger continued his ministrations. He was making small sounds like he couldn’t stop himself and Berenger was almost entirely sure they were real. He brought Ancel to the teetering edge of release only to pull back time and time again, keeping him there while Ancel writhed against him, breath coming quick and desperate.

His knuckles were white from how tightly he was clutching the sheets, his entire body taut with tension as he tried to fuck up into Berenger’s mouth and couldn’t, not with Berenger holding him down by the hips. Berenger was dizzy with his own arousal as he sucked Ancel down, and then he noticed Ancel’s sounds shifting from broken moans to hushed muttering.

He was whispering in Common, _ please _over and over again.

Berenger sped up, and that time he didn’t pull back. Ancel moaned loudly, arching up off the bed as he finally reached his peak. Berenger sucked him through it until he was limp and fucked out on the bed, swallowing his release before pulling back.

Ancel looked like a beautiful wreck as he tried to catch his breath, his soft lips parted and his eyes closed, his eyelashes a smudge of black over his cheeks in the lamp light.

Berenger stroked his thigh slowly, gentling him. Ancel was still trembling so Berenger covered him with a blanket. He wasn’t sure what to do next. He was rock hard in his trousers but he wasn’t about to make any demands. This hadn’t been about him, and he wasn’t going to make it about himself now.

He wanted to stand and drink his wine in the hopes that it would steady him. And yet he didn’t want to leave Ancel to recover on his own. He was trapped.

“You have a mouth like a whore,” Ancel said, his voice breathy and low.

“Thank you,” Berenger said. Ancel laughed.

“Do you want-?” Ancel asked, propping himself up on his elbow a little so he could stare pointedly at Berenger’s crotch.

“I’ll be fine,” Berenger said awkwardly. “This isn’t- this wasn’t about me.”

Ancel seemed at a loss for words as he bit his lip. “You’ve had your mouth on my cock,” he said at last. “And I haven’t even seen yours. Hardly seems fair.”

He looked up and there was something open and vulnerable in Ancel's eyes. Berenger was still learning to read between the lines of what Ancel said to figure out what he meant, but he was pretty sure he understood this, at least.

He rose so he could undress, trying not to feel self conscious from the way Ancel watched him. Once he was nude he laid down, keeping a careful distance between them as he wrapped his hand around his cock. He couldn’t hold back a quiet hiss of relief at the pressure, and started to stroke himself.

He kept his eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to see Ancel watching, and then Ancel closed the distance between them to lie half on Berenger’s chest, his head tucked under Berenger’s chin as he watched him touch himself.

Berenger took a chance and wrapped his free arm around him, pulling him closer. Ancel set his hand low on Berenger’s stomach, fingers splayed wide, but didn’t move to touch him more intimately than that.

Even that small gesture was heady and Berenger sped up with a bit-off moan. Touching himself had never felt this good before. And he’d never done it like this, with someone watching. As he got closer to his release Ancel traced his fingers lower, down over his tense thigh, then back up, just grazing the base of his cock.

Berenger came with a quiet gasp, spilling all over his own fist and stomach, shivering with the aftershocks as Ancel pressed closer. He felt oddly shell shocked as Ancel rose and retrieved a cloth, wiping the mess away methodically.

“Well,” Ancel said with laughter in his voice. “I suppose you’re no good to them at the coupling fire now.”

“I suppose not,” Berenger said. He turned his head to look at Ancel, who’d settled back beside him. He felt like his heart was full, like every inch of him was tingling. He felt terrified.

“Sleep, then,” Ancel said with an easy smile. “Tomorrow you’ll have your deal. Nine hundred Sol per gram.”

“Is that so.”

“Yes,” Ancel said, turning away from him and pulling the blankets over to cover himself. Berenger did the same. “I talked to Halvik. She’s very impressed with you, now that you’ve managed to pin down a prize like me.”

“It’s not half,” Berenger said. There was something tense in the line of Ancel’s spine. Something expectant. He moved carefully to press himself to Ancel’s back, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Ancel relaxed against him, shifting so they were pressed more firmly together.

“You’re going to complain?” Ancel grumbled. “You should be kissing my ass in worship, my Lord.”

Berenger pressed his face against the back of Ancel’s neck and smiled, knowing that Ancel could feel it. He smelled amazing- smoke and perfume and something musky underneath, something pure and warm.

“Maybe next time,” Berenger murmured, and let himself drift off to sleep.

* * *

In the morning Berenger woke to a cold bed. He dressed slowly, not sure how he was feeling. Hopelessly besotted. Terrified that he’d overstepped some line, broken something between him and Ancel. Even more terrified that maybe there’d been nothing to break.

He stepped out of the tent to be greeted with the smell of smoke and roasting meat- the breakfast fires had been lit. The clearing was full of Vaskians and he swept his gaze over them- searching for distinctive red hair.

He didn’t have to look for long, Ancel was laughing with Halvik and a few of her women across the clearing. When Berenger made his way over, Ancel beamed at him and took his arm, pressing close.

Halvik laughed and patted Berenger on the back, hard.

“Your pet drives a hard bargain,” she said. “We’ll take care of the paperwork and the rest of it after breakfast.”

“Yes,” Berenger said with a nod, finding it difficult to focus on anything but Ancel beside him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the previous night, about being allowed to look, to touch, to _ taste. _

They ate around the fire, Ancel half-sitting in Berenger’s lap while Berenger fed him bits of tasty morsels and tried to ignore the way Ancel sucked his fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around Berenger’s fingertips suggestively before pulling back. Ancel made conversation flow easily and Berenger felt himself relaxing for the first time at such a gathering.

Afterwards they signed the paperwork and Berenger transferred the first payment into Halvik’s accounts.

“I could have gotten you six hundred Sol per gram,” Ancel murmured into his ear, his breath warm against his skin. “If you’d agreed to serve at the coupling fire.”

“Thank you, I’ll pass,” Berenger said dryly. He’d much preferred their evening spent together to the thought of being drugged out of his mind while fucking an endless parade of Vaskians.

Ancel laughed, light and teasing, and Berenger could only smile in response.

They left by noon- by far the quickest trade deal Berenger had ever managed.

Ancel followed him to the ship and to the bridge. While Berenger set their course Ancel leaned against his chair.

“What’s next?” he asked eagerly.

Berenger’s heart fell and he had to take a few deep breaths before he could speak. “Next I’ll take you to Arles,” he said quietly. “Like you wanted.”

Ancel recoiled as though he’d been struck. When Berenger looked up at him it was to see a poisonous expression over his face.

“Of course,” Ancel spit out. “Like _ I _wanted. You’re so good about telling me what I want, my Lord.”

“Ancel,” Berenger said uncertainly, but Ancel was already storming out.

“Let him go,” Parsins said from his place at the sensor array. “Let him wrap some other foolish Lord around his finger in Arles. A viper like him will fit in perfectly there. It’s what’s best for everyone.”

Berenger gritted his teeth and held back a stern retort. Parsins had been his man for over ten years and had always served him faithfully; he’d earned the right to speak his mind. Berenger didn’t want to be the sort of Lord who punished his people for being honest with him about their thoughts.

None of that changed how much Parsins’ words hurt.

“I think I’ll retire early tonight,” Berenger said quietly, standing.

Parsins nodded respectfully and Berenger returned to his rooms to nurse his hurts in private.

* * *

It would take two weeks to reach Arles. Berenger hoped that maybe Ancel would warm back up to him in that time, but the young man was despondent and distant, avoiding him as much as he could.

Berenger had no idea how to fix it, or if that was even possible. As he lay in bed alone during the sleep cycles he found himself wondering what it would be like to bid on Ancel’s contract, to take him as a pet.

Would it be so terrible? Ancel seemed to like him well enough at times, and Berenger certainly felt for him. What it was he felt he wasn’t entirely sure. Fondness, exasperation, interest. It seemed as though Ancel could play him like a kithara, strumming his strings until he pulled the full symphony of human emotion out of him.

Maybe Berenger could take him as a pet, and in time Ancel could come to care for him the way Berenger cared for him.

He discarded that thought almost as soon as he had it. Ancel was too good of an actor. Berenger would never know if what Ancel felt was real or just a pretty illusion. He couldn’t afford to delude himself with such things, invite a liar into his bed. He tried to tell himself he couldn’t trust Ancel, and even in the privacy of his mind the thought rang false.

Every time he tried to sift the grains of truth out of the falsehoods he thought of Ancel- giving a street boy one of his earrings, clutching at Berenger’s lapels when they’d kissed, saying _ you’re so good about telling me what I want _in a tone like acid.

He wondered idly if he might take Ancel on in some other respect- a negotiator, a communications officer, anything- _ anything- _other than ‘glorified whore.’

Sometimes, when he caught the sharp end of Ancel’s scowl in the mess hall, he could practically feel the animosity settling over him like a blanket of thorns. He knew such an offer would be rejected without mercy.

And so he was stuck.

They were still a week away when they were intercepted by a cruiser bearing the sigil of the Regency- a gold circlet on a field of red. It wasn’t exactly unusual to meet with military vessels this close to the capital, but it was unusual for the Captain, in this case an unpleasant man named Govart, to demand to board the ship.

Berenger tightened his lips into a thin line as he stared at Govart on the viewscreen before him. He weighed his options- all of them bad. His best chance was running- which would proclaim his guilt to the heavens and ruin everything. Or he could allow this, and hope for the best.

He surreptitiously glanced over at Parsins at the sensor array. He’d been running scans of the Regent’s cruiser. He’d know if they would be able to outpace it. Parsins gave a subtle shake of his head, his face pale.

“Of course,” Berenger said to Govart. “We’d be glad to welcome the Regent’s men aboard.”

“Prepare to dock and be boarded,” Govart said with an ugly grin.

The transmission didn’t shut off even as Govart turned away and Berenger felt his heart sinking. This had to be calculated. Their ships were connected, Govart’s analysts would know if Berenger deleted anything from his database, even if they couldn’t access his files just yet.

“Order everyone down to the hangar,” Berenger said softly, turning to go down himself. There was nothing to do now but wait and hope for the best.

He greeted Govart and his troops with what meagre crew he had. Parsins, a few technicians, half a dozen mechanics, some other minor staff.

“Lord Berenger,” Govart said, smirking insolently.

“Captain Govart,” Berenger said, fighting to keep his tone even.

“By order of the Regency, we’ve come to inspect your ship.”

Berenger suppressed a shudder. It was worse than he’d feared.

“You’ll give us leave to inspect your logs,” Govart continued, “your crew manifest, your cargo-”

The door opened and Ancel waltzed in, dressed in all his finery. Govart’s eyes gaze slid over him lasciviously. His lips parted with glee.

“What’s going on?” Ancel asked haughtily, coming to stand beside Berenger.

“Is this your pet?” Govart asked with interest, leering.

Ancel scoffed. “As if. Look at me- look at him. As if I’d ever. I’m just a passenger. What’s happening?”

“Lord Berenger is under suspicion of conspiring against the crown,” Govart said.

Berenger scowled. The crown belonged to Prince Laurent, not to the Regent.

“That’s ridiculous,” Ancel said with a sharp laugh. _ “Him? _How could he conspire against anyone?”

“That remains to be seen,” Govart said, turning his gaze back to Berenger. “I need your access codes. We’re to inspect your mainframe for incriminating materials.”

“No,” Berenger said, his blood boiling. He couldn’t allow it. He had encrypted messages from the Prince- his plans to travel through Varenne, to make use of Berenger’s men and resources, so much more. He couldn’t let any of that come to light.

“Oh really,” Govart said shrewdly.

“I’m not obligated to share my files with you,” Berenger said angrily. “If you think I’m a traitor- put me on trial. There’s due process, procedures- this is unlawful search and seizure-”

“That sounds like an admission of guilt,” Govart said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ancel scoffed. “I’m sure Lord Berenger has nothing to hide.”

“That’s not the issue,” Berenger said. “We have laws in place for-”

“Oh please,” Ancel said. “It’s such a small matter. Come, Captain. I’ll show you myself.” He smiled prettily and walked forward to take Govart’s arm.

He led Govart away, towards the bridge, and it was all Berenger could do to follow as the rest of his men were detained in the hangar.

He felt painfully powerless as Ancel led Govart over to the main computer and unlocked it easily. It shook Berenger down to the core to realize Ancel could access these files. He should have known- Ancel had altered their flight plans before. He should have known he could do this, too.

Berenger watched as Ancel accessed the mainframe, the messages. He could barely contain a sigh of relief to see that all of his correspondences with Laurent were gone. Maybe Parsins had deleted them out of some sense of prudence. Or maybe-

Ancel shot him a sly grin over his shoulder and Berenger didn’t know what to think anymore. Maybe it had been Ancel all along.

“You see?” Ancel asked with a breathy laugh, leaning flirtatiously against Govart’s side. “Nothing amiss. Now, I have an appointment in Arles and I’d really hate to miss it. Would you let us go on our way, Captain?”

Govart seemed disgruntled and lost. At another time, Berenger might have enjoyed it. Now, he was too afraid of what Govart might do next.

“We still have to search the ship,” he said gruffly. “Lord Berenger and his people will be taken to the brig-”

“What a bore,” Ancel pouted, reaching up to run his fingers through Govart’s hair. “I hope you’ll keep me entertained while we wait?”

Berenger watched in horror as Govart’s smirk widened and he wrapped an arm around Ancel’s waist, dragging him closer. Ancel giggled, openly delighted.

“I can think of a few ways to do that,” Govart said.

Berenger wanted to say something, to protect Ancel. If Ancel had been under contract, he could have. But he wasn’t- he was just a passenger by his own admission. There was nothing Berenger could do.

“Take him away,” Govart said.

Before he knew what was happening there were soldiers flanking him, pulling him away. The last thing he saw was Govart curling his hand into a fist around Ancel’s braid, yanking his head back-

The doors closed.

* * *

Berenger felt numb as he sat on the floor of the cell with his back against the wall, watching Parsins pace restlessly before him, muttering under his breath.

There was nothing for the Regent’s men to find- nothing but the data that Ancel had apparently wiped or otherwise hidden on the hard drive. But he was coming to realize it didn’t matter. If the Regent wanted to be rid of him, he could have his men plant something, or find some other excuse to execute him.

He’d made his peace with that possibility long ago- when he’d first realized the Regent was scheming to keep Prince Laurent’s throne for himself. His men had known the risks as well- they’d all known what might happen. All but Ancel- unwittingly dragged into Berenger’s schemes and even worse- Ancel was _ entertaining _Govart somewhere.

Berenger knew full well the sort of man Govart was. Cruel, rough- _ vicious. _

Ancel could take care of himself but what could he do against such a man? Berenger couldn’t stop picturing it, worrying. But he was powerless.

It was late into the sleep cycle when there were sharp footsteps approaching the cell and Berenger raised his head, squinting to try and see what was happening beyond the energy barrier.

Abruptly the barrier fell, revealing Ancel standing on the other side. He looked almost exactly as he had the last time Berenger had seen him- draped in silks and jewels, though his hair was loose now. His lips were set in a firm line, his eyes dark and cold.

Berenger blinked in surprise. Ancel scowled.

“Well?” he demanded, tossing over a blaster. Berenger caught it, still in a daze as he tried not to fumble it. Parsins was already grabbing him by the arm and dragging him up to his feet.

“Hurry,” Ancel said, taking off down the hall.

Berenger followed, Parsins at his heels. The other cells were open too, the rest of his men waiting for them anxiously.

“Come _ on,” _Ancel hissed when Berenger hesitated.

Berenger followed. Ancel led the way unerringly back to where Berenger’s ship was docked with the Regency cruiser. He’d managed to gather his wits about him by then, directing his men to start the detaching procedures and fire up the engines while Berenger hurried to the bridge, Parsins behind him.

There were no alarms, no sign at all that Govart’s men had noticed the jailbreak. Maybe they really could get away.

“Set a course for Varenne,” Berenger ordered, settling in the Captain’s chair.

“We can’t outpace them for long,” Parsins said even as he did what he was told. There was a dull clunk as Berenger’s ship separated from Govart’s and started turning away, getting ready to engage the main engines.

Govart’s ship still wasn’t responding. They should have noticed what was happening by now, but they simply floated dead in space.

“Back away,” Berenger said, a feeling of foreboding filling him like ice. Ancel hadn’t come along to the bridge and now Berenger wished he had. On a whim he ran a set of scans. There was something wrong with Govart’s ship. The ventilation system was shut down in most of the sectors- the CO2 to O2 ratio at critical levels. If any of Govart’s men were still alive, they weren’t conscious.

“My Lord,” Parsins said in alarm. “I’m reading an energy spike-“

“Back _ away,” _Berenger repeated even as he took over the controls, pushing his ship back from the Regency cruiser.

“There’s some sort of cascading failure,” Parsins said.

Berenger could see as much from his own scans. The main reactor of the Regency vessel was overheating. The first explosion came a moment later, followed by a chain reaction that took out all the systems. Berenger could only stare in shock as Govart’s ship imploded in on itself.

It felt like it lasted forever, though it was probably only mere moments, until there was nothing left of Govart’s ship but a field of glittering debris.

“It appears we can outpace them after all,” Berenger said numbly.

Parsins was staring with his mouth open, but at Berenger’s words he closed it with an audible click of teeth. “My Lord. It looks like-“

_ Louans’ ship. _

Berenger couldn’t breathe. Had Ancel told the truth about the Vaskian raiders? Or had he destroyed Louans’ ship the same way he’d destroyed Govart’s?

For some reason, Berenger couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

“Stop,” he said, pushing himself up into a standing position. “Get us home. We can’t be caught here, at the site of the accident.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Parsins said, his voice pinched.

“We should have died today,” Berenger said quietly. “Keep that in mind.”

* * *

Berenger knocked softly on the door to Ancel’s room but no answer came. He knocked again.

Finally he eased the door open and stepped inside. Ancel had wiped off his makeup and was sitting at his dressing table, systematically taking off his jewelry and putting it away into a small but elegant jewelry box.

“Ancel,” Berenger said quietly, moving until he was standing behind him.

Ancel frowned, keeping his eyes lowered. “Obviously I don’t expect you to follow through with taking me to Arles,” he said defensively. “Just dump me on the nearest inhabited rock and I’ll hitch a ride from there.”

Berenger frowned too, not sure how to take that.

“Ancel,” he tried again.

_ “What,” _Ancel hissed, looking up at him so their eyes met in the mirror. Ancel’s face was pale, his eyes rimmed with red. He looked more exhausted now than when he’d first come aboard. “Have you come to scold me? Well save it. I-“

“I’ve come to thank you,” Berenger said, carefully setting his hand on Ancel’s shoulder. 

Ancel seemed surprised but covered it quickly with a scowl. “I didn’t do it for _ you.” _

“Oh?” Berenger asked mildly. “I didn’t realize you had any animosity towards the Regent.”

“The Regent fucks little boys,” Ancel spit out, tightening his hands into fists.

“That’s-“ Berenger startled, surprised. “That’s not exactly common knowledge.”

“It’s not a coincidence that he’s got some poor blue-eyed thing beside him at every televised appearance,” Ancel said. “The only reason no one else sees it is because they don’t want to.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised- he’d known Ancel saw things other people missed.

Ancel was still and silent, watching Berenger warily. Berenger stayed silent too, looking at where his hand was resting on Ancel’s shoulder. He frowned when he noticed the edge of a bruise on the side of Ancel's neck and moved to brush his hair to the side gently, revealing the unmistakable shape of a handprint.

“Ancel,” he whispered in horror. “Did Govart-?”

“It's fine,” Ancel hissed, slapping his hand away so his hair fell back into place to cover the bruise. “Louans used to do it that way too- with my face buried in a pillow so he could pretend I was a girl. I'm used to it.”

“It's not fine,” Berenger managed, sinking to his knees beside Ancel's chair. He felt sick with himself that he’d allowed such a thing to happen.

“If we're done here,” Ancel said, “get out.”

“We're not done. I wanted to ask-”

“Is this about Louans again?” Ancel demanded, his voice rising. “Don’t bother. I already _ told _you-”

“I don't give a fuck about Louans,” Berenger interrupted.

Ancel closed his mouth in surprise, looking at him warily.

“I only wanted to ask if there’s anything I could do for you,” Berenger continued gently. “If there’s anything you wanted-“

“You know what I want,” Ancel said. “I told you the first time you asked.”

“It’s dangerous,” Berenger said. “You could get hurt if you’re associated with me. You’ve seen it for yourself.”

“I can make my own choices,” Ancel said bitterly. “But you don’t think so. You think you need to protect me from myself and you expect me to thank you for it. But I know my own mind. If you don’t want me, fine. But don’t lie and say it’s for my own good.”

“I want you,” Berenger said. He meant it like he’d meant few things before. It was true and bone deep, there was nothing he wanted more. “I want to offer you a contract.”

For a moment Ancel seemed suspicious, but when Berenger took his hand and brought it to his lips Ancel’s expression softened.

“Do you mean it?” he asked in a voice like a whisper.

“Yes.”

Ancel’s shoulders loosened, his back sagged a little as the tension drained from his body. Suddenly he seemed unbearably vulnerable and all Berenger wanted to do was wrap him up in his arms. He stood, still holding Ancel’s hand, and drew him up too.

“If you’re to be my pet,” Berenger said carefully, “you should spend your nights in my bed, shouldn’t you?”

Ancel nodded, biting his lip. He followed as Berenger led the way to his own bedroom. Ancel helped him undress for sleep, then Berenger offered him a simple white nightshirt.

He climbed into bed while Ancel went to change in the privacy of the bathroom, and felt a strong sense of deja vu when Ancel returned in just the shirt, meek and quiet.

“My lord,” Ancel murmured as he climbed into bed. The sleeve of his shirt rode up to reveal another bruise on his wrist and he hurried to cover it, pale and mortified. “Would you like-“

“I’d like you to call me by my name,” Berenger said, his heart aching. Even after everything Ancel must have been through that day, he was still offering himself up for another man’s pleasure. “I’d like you to tell me what you want and don’t want. And I’d like to sleep with you in my arms. Is that alright?”

Ancel nodded, smiling a little, and made himself comfortable in bed. When Berenger wrapped an arm around him he sighed quietly and melted into the touch, relaxed and pliant in Berenger’s arms.

Berenger could only hope he was doing the right thing. At least this moment- peace and quiet, warmth and closeness- felt safe and perfect.

* * *

Berenger woke slowly, warm and comfortable. Ancel was curled up against him so Berenger carefully slid out of bed so as not to wake him.

Once free he made his way to the bathroom, throwing his clothes haphazardly on the floor before stepping into the shower. For a few blissful minutes he bathed in privacy, and then he heard the door sliding open and Ancel was there, nude and staring at him with a challenging expression.

“Like what you see?” Ancel asked, striking a little pose.

He looked beautiful and elegant, even despite the fingerprint-sized bruises adorning his body. He was smirking but there was uncertainty in his eyes. His real question was easy enough to decipher. _ Do you want me? Truly? _

“Yes,” Berenger said, reaching out to take Ancel’s hand and maneuver him under the warm water.

Ancel gasped and giggled a little and Berenger smiled in response, cupping his face gently and bringing their lips together. When he pulled away Ancel frowned and reached for him again but Berenger took him by the hips and turned him around, grabbing the soap.

“I should be doing this for you,” Ancel said as Berenger carefully washed his hair before moving to run soapy hands down his body. He leaned into the touch so Berenger ignored his half-hearted protests, leaning forward to press a kiss behind Ancel’s ear.

“Maybe next time,” he murmured, exploring Ancel’s body slowly and marking what made Ancel’s breath stutter. He lingered over Ancel’s pink nipples, teasing him gently while Ancel reached back to hold on to Berenger’s hips. By the time Berenger moved to wash between his legs he was fully hard, trembling faintly in Berenger’s arms.

“Is this alright?” Berenger asked.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Ancel breathed out, turning to wrap his arms around Berenger’s shoulders and yanking him down for a passionate kiss. 

Berenger returned it, pressing Ancel up against the wall of the shower. Ancel felt so perfect in his arms, pressed against him. He was hot and eager as he thrust his cock against Berenger’s thigh, shifting restlessly in search of stimulation.

“Come _ on,” _ Ancel muttered against Berenger’s lips, clutching at him desperately.

What little control he might have had evaporated at Ancel’s pleading tone and Berenger growled as he took Ancel by the backs of his thighs and picked him up, helping him wrap his legs around Berenger’s hips before reaching out blindly to turn off the water.

Ancel didn’t stop kissing him as Berenger carried him to bed and set him down on the mussed sheets, climbing on after him. He pulled back just to run his fingers over the side of Ancel’s face, savoring the way he looked under him, flushed and pliant. His wet hair soaked the pillows, wild and dark red, all the more lovely for being tangled and unstyled rather than brushed to shining perfection.

“Are you getting cold feet?” Ancel teased, arching his back and spreading his legs in invitation.

“No,” Berenger said with a quiet laugh. “Tell me, what do you want?”

Ancel rolled his eyes with a sigh but there was something bashful in the way he tilted his head away. “Do I have to explain to you how this is supposed to work?”

“I know how it’s supposed to work,” Berenger said, bending down to kiss his neck. “I’m supposed to use you however I like while you pretend to enjoy it. That’s not how I want it to go.”

Ancel huffed out an exasperated sigh even as a fine tremor ran over him before he tensed and brought himself under control.

“You can tell me,” Berenger said. “I won’t be angry with you.”

Ancel remained unforthcoming so Berenger pulled back a little to watch the rise and fall of his chest, the flush spreading down his body. He was hard against his belly, his cock as pretty pink as the last time Berenger had seen it, back in the tent in Skarva.

“I could use my hands,” Berenger suggested, stroking Ancel’s sides. “Or I could use my mouth again. You could fuck me, if you wanted. Or I could-”

“Oh my god,” Ancel muttered, covering his face with his hands. “I want you to just-”

“Yes?”

“Shut _ up.” _

Berenger laughed again, bringing his hand down to run his fingers over the smooth soft skin of Ancel’s inner thighs, teasingly close to his cock. “Anything else?”

“Fuck,” Ancel breathed out. “I want- I- can I be on top?”

By way of answer Berenger moved to lie on his back beside Ancel on the bed, turning his head just in time to catch Ancel smile. Ancel sat up to root through Berenger’s nightstand drawers until he found a small bottle of lube and moved to straddle Berenger’s hips, making quick work of slicking Berenger’s cock.

Berenger couldn’t help a sigh at the touch, relaxing back into the pillows. “Let me-”

“No,” Ancel said, tossing the lube haphazardly into the sheets. “You’d probably take forever and want to talk about feelings or some other nonsense. I want to get off some time this century.”

Before he knew it Ancel was taking his cock with one hand and bracing himself on Berenger’s chest with the other, rising up on his knees. Berenger could only watch as Ancel bit his lip and closed his eyes in an intense look of concentration and sank down, enveloping him in blissful heat.

“Easy,” Berenger forced out, his hands moving of their own volition to take hold of Ancel’s hips, unsure if he was trying to steady him or slow him down.

Ancel moaned as he sank down to the hilt and paused for a moment, breathing hard. Berenger could feel his muscles clenching and relaxing around him, every minute adjustment of his hips. He was going a little mad with it already, but he forced himself to focus.

“Are you alright?”

“Shut up,” Ancel muttered. “Just shut up, and-” he bent down for a kiss and Berenger propped himself up on his elbow to meet him half way, groaning as Ancel rose up a little only to sink back down again, fucking himself on Berenger’s cock in slow shallow thrusts.

“Fuck,” Ancel moaned, turning his head away from the kiss. “Fuck, just- just help me.”

Berenger braced his feet on the bed so he’d have some leverage and started to thrust, trying to match Ancel’s pace. Ancel moaned loudly, arching his back as he leaned into it, hands splayed wide over Berenger’s chest and skin slick with sweat now, not just the water from the shower. He looked beautiful like this- lost in pleasure, his whole body taut and trembling as he kept himself propped up on his knees, letting Berenger fuck up into him.

“Can you touch yourself for me?” Berenger murmured. “I want to watch you.”

Ancel gasped, his left hand tightening over Berenger’s shoulder while he moved to stroke himself with his right, moaning like this was everything he’d ever wanted and he just needed permission to take it.

The moan sounded real. Everything about this was real- Berenger felt it bone-deep without quite knowing why. There was something painfully raw in Ancel’s furrowed brows and gasping breaths, something he’d never allow to surface if he was putting on a show. He liked this- wanted this. He wanted _ Berenger. _

The realization rocked through him like a lightning strike, deep and heartfelt where it had been just a vague hint and a hope before.

Berenger groaned, speeding up as he realized he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Ancel was perfect in his imperfection, just as needy and desperate as Berenger felt, his brow marked with sweat and his hair a glorious mess. His hand was moving quickly over his cock- he was close.

Berenger forced himself to stay steady, to wait- and then Ancel cried out and spilled over his stomach, collapsing on top of him, and Berenger could only bite his lip as he lost himself in the feeling of Ancel tightening around him, _ pulsing _with his orgasm.

He came too, almost despite himself, his vision whiting out and everything feeling far away, unimportant.

He felt dizzy afterwards, carefully pulling out while Ancel still fought to catch his breath on top of him, hiding his face against Berenger’s neck where he could feel every exhale as a cool puff of air against sweaty overheated skin.

“You’re a fool,” Ancel said at last, laughter in his voice. He raised his head to look at Berenger under him with a wide smile. “You have to buy me now. And you don’t even know how much I cost.”

“But I do,” Berenger said, smiling too. He raised his hand to push the messy tendrils of hair out of Ancel’s face, looking into his bright emerald eyes. 

He was so lovely. Clever and vicious and strong, a social butterfly and a cold strategist. And he was so painfully beautiful it made Berenger’s heart flutter every time he looked at him. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Ancel’s affection, but he’d fight like hell to keep it, no matter what.

He brushed his thumb over Ancel’s plush lower lip, marveling that he was lucky enough to be here with him, like this.

“I do know. You’re priceless.”

  
  


_ fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> If you're into SPACE berencel- please check out - [lips like the galaxy's edge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13370313) by [Kittendiamore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittendiamore/pseuds/Kittendiamore)
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [barbitone](http://barbitone.tumblr.com/) and pillowfort also at [barbitone](https://www.pillowfort.io/barbitone)


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